In this life or the next
by Irishanam
Summary: A servant of Prince Hector hides her love for him after she makes a promise...Once it's broken, what will occur?
1. Past and present entwined

Overhearing that Princes Hector and Paris had arrived at port safely from the peace banquet with the Spartan king, Angela released a breath of relief, actually breathing easily for the first time in weeks. She let herself breath deeply to be calm, leaning against a cool marble column in the hall and ignoring the other slaves' jealous looks as they hurried by, aware that she was Hector's personal slave and under no one else's command. Arranging her face into a blank mask, Angela loosened her thankful grip on the empty water pitcher and hurried to fill it in case Hector wished to wash his hands and face of the sea. 

Later, Angela stood still and quiet by the basin and pitcher, her gaze on the floor in a respectful way, but her thoughts leagues away when the Prince entered his chambers.  
"Working on a story?" He asked quietly, crossing the room silently in his leather sandals.  
"Yes, your highness." Angela answered promptly, glancing up with a smile. She'd opened her mouth to tell him about it, but seeing how tired he looked and how tense his 6'5 frame was, she immediately shut it, recognizing something had angered him. Pouring some water into the basin, Angela dipped the cloth in, wrung it out and without a word, picked up his left hand and began tenderly wiping the sea salt from his tanned skin. As her hands gently held him, moving further up Hector's muscled arm, built from years of sword welding, Angela could feel his eyes on her, but she forced herself not to look up. Turning and redipping the cloth, she felt more than heard him move away, and the sigh he gave as he sprawled on a low couch sent an arrow of worry through her heart. Angela went and knelt before the leather couch, at eye level with the prince and noticing that his blue tunic was wet in spots form either sea water or sweat before she took his chin in her hand and began to carefully wipe his face. He could see she was avoiding direct eye contact as was deemed proper for Trojan slaves and it irritated Hector further, causing him to drop his news suddenly just to shock her.  
"The Achaians will be here in a matter of weeks to kill us all"  
To his slight satisfaction, Angela's hand froze on his forehead and her blue eyes flew to meet his brown eyed gaze, struggling to hide her fear. The sight of it made Hector immediately repentant and he laid a gentle hand on the side of her face, brushing a battle calloused thumb over her cheek bone and ivory skin.  
"You'll be safe within the walls of Troy." He assured her with a slight smile on his attractive lips.  
"But you will not be, sire! Why do they come?" Angela whispered, wide eyed and unable to keep the question back. Hector's handsome face became immediately thunderous, but knowing it wasn't aimed at her, Angela didn't look away.  
"My brother is a hot headed fool!" He announced, not for the first time, but with anger this time as he pulled free of her ministrations and rose with raging energy to pace the floor of his rooms. Sitting back on her heels, Angela watched his fluid, unconscious grace with a patient expression, knowing he would elaborate when he was ready to. Finally spinning to face her, Hector raked a hand through his shoulder length dark hair, scowling when his fingers were caught in the tiny braids a servant had put at his temples for his appearance before his father, King Priam. Smiling indulgently, Angela rose and went to his side, reaching up and unbraiding his hair, then combing the tangle out carefully with her fingers.  
"Thank you." Hector stated gruffly before continuing as Angela curtseyed briefly.  
"He took Helen of Arogos! I found out the she-devil was aboard when we were halfway home! I have never been so...infuriated with Paris before. Of all the juvenile, self-centered"  
"He kidnapped the Queen of Sparta!" Angela interrupted as she processed the words tumbling out of the Prince's mouth. Shaking his head, Hector put his hands on his hips and smiled dryly.  
"Not kidnapped. They fell in love and he convinced her to run off with him"  
"Oh no..." Angela whispered, her eyes wide, knowing of Paris' life long obsession whit finding true love from first hand experience.  
"He didn't consider the consequences." She stated with sad certainty.  
"He still hasn't! I don't know what he expects, but he's prancing around with that woman like life is perfect when both Father and I know that Menelaus won't let his slight to his honor slide and the Greeks will be crawling all over the beach any day now for war"  
Smiling sadly, Angela could hear the agitation and the worry for his people in his tone, but she spoke up hesitantly because she knew her words could be construed as cruelty or an insult that is punishable.  
"Will the king consider sending Helen back...with Paris"  
"To be killed for Menelaus' honor?" Hector asked, knowing the honor code even better than she. Nodding slightly, Angela fought the urge to smooth the worry lines from his face as Hector stared at a spot on the floor, weighing his words.  
"I told my father that we had to do so...For the innocents of Troy." He admitted, surprising Angela and she made a sound of sympathy, unconsciously laying a consoling hand on his arm.  
"And right now he believes, as he told me, that I've never been in love so apparently I don't understand what my brother's going through." He replied bitterly. Angela was closer to him than anyone and his confidante, but Hector was still surprised when her eyes flashed angrily and she flipped her long auburn hair, bound every few inches, over her shoulder before her hands went to her hips.  
"That's a load of crock if you'll forgive me, your highness! Being in love does not excuse stupidity, self centeredness or recklessness! Especially in a prince"  
"You sound as though you know." Hector teased with a smile, though slight, the first genuine one he'd had in weeks. The smile disappeared as Angela's anger faded and she turned away with a hesitant nod.  
"I, of all people, know you can't pick who you fall in love with, but everyone controls how they act and what they do"  
"And what did you do?" Hector asked quietly, his heart in his throat and feeling as if it would choke the breath from him while he watched Angela go back to the basin and hang the cloth on the bowl's lip. After a moment of silence, Angela spoke softly.  
"I knew...know I could never be with...him the way I want to. Between the beliefs of my people and his position"  
Shrugging her shoulders, Angela turned to face Hector and smoothed her white gown self consciously, her eyes glistening with unshed tears as she managed a weak smile.  
"So I did what I could. I promised his gods that I would never kiss or...lay with him if they kept him safe from harm"  
"Angela..." Hector began, at a loss of what to say of the obvious sacrifice she'd made for this man.  
"It's for the best." She stated, straightening her shoulders with a show inner strength he'd always admired.  
"His family needs him...Especially baby, Demetrios." She added under her breath, bending to pick up the dark blue cloak Hector had discarded when he first entered and unaware that he'd moved close enough behind her to overhear it.  
"You return my feelings..." Hector said huskily, both hoping and disbelieving that she'd spoken his newborn, only child's name. Paling as she spun around, Angela swallowed hard and backed up as Hector approached, until she bumped into one of the room's oak doors, hindering her movement. He stood close, causing her breath to quicken as he looked down at her and brushed his index finger along her hairline, over her jaw and traced the shape of her lips seductively.  
"Are you in love with me?" He asked, unconscious of the slight command to answer in his tone.  
Caught up in the intensity of his eyes, Angela leaned into the touch of his hand as she answered.  
"Yes, my lord." She whispered softly as a tear of surrender slid down her cheek and onto the thumb he used to tease the corner of her mouth. Hector's eyes darkened to black with desire and as he lowered his mouth to hers, Angela's breath caught in her throat in anticipation. His left hand cupped the back of her neck, tipping her head back gently as he pulled her to him with the other and his mouth took possession of hers in a way that was both an assault to her senses as he filled her being and at the same time so loving and tender that she wanted to cry at the feeling of joy it gave her. Lost in her closeness to him and the feel of his touch, Angela forgot about why she'd avoided this until warnings began screaming in the recesses of her mind and she became aware of a door opening somewhere with approaching footsteps. Hector immediately tensed, always alert, and when he broke the kiss at the sound of a discreet and embarrassed cough, he hid Angela behind him as he turned to face the new comer.  
"Andromache." He stated guardedly, the stiff bearing of his shoulders daring the raven haired woman he'd been forced to marry to say anything. Nodding with respect as she was required, Andromache didn't mention what she'd come in on, fond of Angela and with no romantic feelings for the man she'd married.  
"The King requires us at banquet and I thought you'd like to see Demetrios beforehand...I'll just tell the nurse to let you see him later." She finished with a slight smile, her brown eyes briefly going to Angela, who's head was down while her fair skin was bright red with an embarrassed blush and her thought raced a mile a minute. Hector glanced back at her as well to see Angela lift her fingers slowly to her lips. Looking up and meeting his eyes, tears flooded her own and she unconsciously spoke in her native language as they spilled over her cheeks.  
"What have I done"  
Though neither Hector nor Andromache understood her, they did recognize the heart wrenching pain in her tone as she slid to the floor and began to cry into her hands, her knees drawn up to her chest.

_**Sitting straight up in bed, Angel Collins panted to catch her breath and realized tears were streaming down her face. Wiping them off with the back of her hands, she sought to control her breathing and glanced at the digital clock beside her Queen sized bed.  
'Four-thirty in the morning...Nice.' She thought sarcastically, swinging her legs over the bed's side and patting the head of her black Great Dane, Apollo, who sat up in surprise when Angel's feet touched his back.  
"How can a dream make my hear throb with pain like this? And why did I name you after Hector's protector?" She added with a teasing smile as Apollo laid his head on her knee as if understanding his mistress' words and seeking to comfort her. Apollo's sister was the classic tan Dane and she came rushing into the room at the sound of Angel's voice.  
"Hallo, Artemis." Angel greeted with a chuckle as the female pushed her brother out aside for her share of attention. Scratching both dogs behind the ears, Angel sighed and got up, deciding to go work out before heading to her job at the museum.**_

_**Rubbing her eyes tiredly, Angel walked briskly through the history museum, ignoring how her heels clacked with a loud rhythm on the marble floor. About to pass from Ancient World History into British and European, she stopped dead in her tracks and then went back two display cases to a loaned suit of Greek armor. From the twelfth century BC, it's tag had the breastplate and helmet rumored to be from the Trojan war, but Angel didn't notice it. Staring at the glass case, she frowned when what seemed like memories flooded her mind.**_

In the royal box that looked out over the walls of Troy to where the Achaean army had been camping for years, Angela stood in the back of the beautifully furnished room and fumed while trying not to burst into tears. She watched the two tiny figures down on the ground below intently, trying to ignore the dread that sat in her stomach like a sickening cancer and attempting to bite her tongue in Paris and Priam's presence. The Achaeans were here because of Paris and Hector stood below, about to battle Achilles one on one thanks to King Priam.  
_'I don't know who I hate more at this moment.'_ She thought, shifting slightly for a better view. Achilles was invincible, some said thanks to his mother, Thetis, who dipped him in the river Styx and while Hector was the greatest warrior in Troy.  
_'How does he defeat someone you can't kill!'_

"Angela." Paris stated, interrupting her musings. Stepping forward and bowing, she knew that her bearing held no sign of respect, but she didn't care that the prince knew as she waited, tight lipped for Paris to speak. He was the same age as Angela, seven years Hector's junior and considered by most to be more handsome with the perfect features that Achaeans were so fond of in their statures. His hair was dark and curly and as he turned his brown eyes to her, Angela fought the urge to yank that hair from his head while her face remained blank.  
"You show no emotion, but the fury radiating from you feels as if it will blow the back of my skull off." Paris mused, a questioning look in his eyes.  
"My lord." Angela stated, not batting an eyelash as she refused to comfort his unease with an explanation or a lie that denied she felt that way.  
"I pursued you with no encouragement or interest on your part." He murmured so the beautiful blonde on his right wouldn't overhear, "What are you angry about? Do you regret it now"  
He looked so sure and cocky that Angela began to laugh, unaware that it rang out with a tinge of bitterness that caused Hector to glance up the city walls before turning his attention back to putting on his shield. Paris' eyes narrowed irritably and Angela unconsciously straightened so he had to look up to her face.  
"May I speak freely, my lord?"  
"You always do." The Prince answered, arching an eyebrow.  
"Because of...Prince Hector. I want no later repercussions from this on your end." Angela explained stubbornly, her hands fisted at her sides.  
"Alright, alright!" Paris agreed impatiently, waving his hands in acquiescence. Stiffening regally, Angela glared at down at Paris with flashing blue eyes and ignored Helen's curious glance at the pair.  
"I think, my lord, that you are the most immature, selfish, foolish person I've ever met and if I had any say, you'd have been thrown to the Achaeans with that...woman of yours years ago"  
Temper lit Paris' eyes and he opened his mouth to speak, but Angela rushed on while she still had momentum.  
"Lives of human beings have been lost because you couldn't keep your hands to yourself and respect Menelaus, at least as a husband, if not as a king and ruler of one of Troy's allies! Now, your own flesh and blood is down there, about to fight that Achaean for you and he doesn't even believe you're right in this"  
Tears pricked Angela's eyes and she felt one slip down her cheek, but she battled on as Paris and Helen both paled.  
"I wish now that the King had given you back to Menelaus for whatever his honor commanded because...because"  
Swallowing hard, Angela's next words came out as a whisper.  
"Hector will lose this day thanks to my folly and a love for him that I kept hidden until the day she arrived! One kiss is all we've ever shared and now his life will end over it. I hate you, Paris of Troy, and God will let Hector and I find one another someday, but you...You and Helen will only ever have these years before you're lost to each other in eternity"  
She knew the enormity of her words because her people believed so strongly in verbal blessings and curses and she felt the urge to flee, but at that moment there was a clash of steel from below and a roar from the watching armies that made Angela's heart drop to her toes. Ignoring the royal family, she rushed to the wall and looked over the side to see the fight between Achilles the Greek and Hector of Troy begin their battle to the death.

The scene seemed to go in slow motion; dust flinging from the heels of both men's sandals as they parried and thrust, the sun shining in a blinding glare from the blades of their swords and the only sound the grunts and ragged breathing of each man as he swung or darted away. An arc of red suddenly filled the space between Hector and Achilles in an almost beautiful rainbow, but Angela was jolted from her wonder at the site when a slight groan of pain rose from Hector, echoing in her ears at the same moment that a primal scream of agony and loss filled the air, sending shivers down the spines of the thousands of men camped below. Their eyes lifted to where the lone woman stood at the wall, her auburn hair hanging freely over her shoulders to catch the tears that dripped from her face. Hector dropped to his knees in the dirt as his eyes rose to where Angela cried for him and Achilles watched the Prince smile slightly, almost in apology and goodbye, before he slid to the ground and died.

**_"Angel! Angel, please, you're scaring the hell out of me!" A voice pleaded as someone clutched her arm, shaking her desperately. Slowly opening her eyes, Angel felt the cold marble of the floor in her bones and realized she lay sprawled on the Museum floor. Her best friend and coworker, Linda Castile kneeled beside her, holding a white cloth to her head and as Angel tried to sit up, she felt a bit dizzy and noticed the first aid kit next to the Mexican-American woman.  
"W-What"  
"I came I to see you stop to look at that Greek armor. Next I know, you freakin' pass out and hit the corner of the case on the way to the floor"  
Patting Linda's hand comfortingly with an absent frown, Angel took the gauze from her forehead to find she'd been bleeding rather profusely.  
"I was just"  
"Just what!" Linda demanded, impatient with relief. "You'd better be okay! I don't want to lecture that tour for the soldiers on my own"  
"Of course I'm fine." Angel answered dismissively, climbing awkwardly to her feet as she tried to keep the gauze on her cut and balance in heels. Her gaze landed on the armor again and she looked away, hiding a shudder as the memory of Hector's blood and death flashed in her mind.  
'Memory! God, what's happening to me? It's like a dream has gone rogue and...the weirdest thing is that it feels so real and if that...that curse was real, I want it to be true so I'd find Hector...' "This is crazy." She muttered, shaking her head to try and clear her mind of the thoughts. Linda watched her friend, her brown eyes wide with concern and Angel managed a smile, tugging one of her friends wild black curls.  
"I'll be fine. I think I just need something to eat. Really"  
Linda still looked doubtful, but gathered up the first aid kit and followed as Angel headed to the Museum employee break room._**

**_Cradling a mug of hot tea between her hands, Angel inhaled the sweet fragrance as she entered the small lecture auditorium. Catcalls and whistles greeted her and Linda from the five men sprawled casually in the front row theatre seats and Angel gave her friend a reassuring smile as Linda unconsciously moved shyly closer to her. Walking over to the podium, Angel sipped her tea and set her cup on the table next to it, frowning.  
"Weren't there supposed to be six of ya'll"  
Four of the men hid smiles or laughter and Angel's eyes narrowed with the threat of temper as a lean, green eyed blonde sat back in his chair and spoke up.  
"Hoot said he knows more about Turkey than some teachers who've never been and he had other shit to do. He's outside smoking a cigarette"  
"Is he?" Angel asked coolly, finding this made her incredibly angry, though normally she'd brush the person off and do the lecture. Removing her suit jacket, Angel ignored further whistles as she spoke quietly to Linda.  
"I'll be right back. Start your bit on Islam if you want or just wait 'til I return"  
Dropping her jacket on a chair, she glared at the guy on the end of the aisle and knocked his feet of the arms of the chair next to him, earning teasing noises of fear from the men before she walked briskly from the auditorium, ignoring them completely_**.


	2. Confusion

_**Cradling a mug of hot tea between her hands, Angel inhaled the sweet fragrance as she entered the small lecture auditorium. Catcalls and whistles greeted her and Linda from the five men sprawled casually in the front row theatre seats and Angel gave her friend a reassuring smile as Linda unconsciously moved shyly closer to her. Walking over to the podium, Angel sipped her tea and set her cup on the table next to it, frowning.  
"Weren't there supposed to be six of ya'll?"  
Four of the men hid smiles or laughter and Angel's eyes narrowed with the threat of temper as a lean, green eyed blonde sat back in his chair and spoke up.  
"Hoot said he knows more about Turkey than some teachers who've never been and he had other shit to do. He's outside smoking a cigarette"  
"Is he?" Angel asked coolly, finding this made her incredibly angry, though normally she'd brush the person off and do the lecture. Removing her suit jacket, Angel ignored further whistles as she spoke quietly to Linda.  
"I'll be right back. Start your bit on Islam if you want or just wait 'til I return."  
Dropping her jacket on a chair, she glared at the guy on the end of the aisle and knocked his feet of the arms of the chair next to him, earning teasing noises of fear from the men before she walked briskly from the auditorium, ignoring them completely.**_

_**Stepping out of the Museum, Angel paused to let her eyes adjust to the bright sunshine and searched the grounds before the doors for someone who looked like Special Forces. She didn't see the tall man off to her left who froze with a cigarette halfway to his lips when she walked further into the sun, causing strands of her hair to gleam gold. Tossing the cigarette to the ground and crushing it absently beneath his shoe, Sgt. "Hoot" Gibson shoved his hands into the pockets of his blue jeans and inhaled slightly, the only give away that he was about to move out of the Museum building's shadow. AT that moment a voice called out and the woman tensed in unhappy recognition, causing Hoot to tense as wellwhen a blonde man in a rumpled brown suit and eschew yellow bow tie rushed up to her eagerly. Anyone observing the trio would've noticed the same look if annoyance and frustration pass over Hoot and Angel's faces, followed by impenetrable masks--his blank and expressionless, hers pleasant, but impersonal.  
"Hallo, Eric. How..."  
"I thought you were giving a lecture today!" Eric Ott interrupted, causing Angel to step back as he moved into her personal space, unwelcomed.  
"I am. I just came out here to find..."  
"Forget your notes?" He asked with a mocking smile, interrupting her once again and causing her to frown, tug her newly captured elbow free and start to move away.  
"No, Eric."  
Smiling devilishly to himself, Hoot slid on his ruby lens ray band sunglasses that had been hanging from the collar of his black tee shirt and strolled confidently forward.  
"Sorry I'm late, baby. Heavy Traffic." He informed Angel as he reached her side. Spinning around in shock at the words and confusion as the voice struck some buried cord within her, Angel was thrown completely off balance mentally when the clean shaven, probably handsome stranger slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her hard against his lean, muscled frame to kiss her with all the intensity and desire of someone extremely intimate with the other.  
"God, I've missed you." He found himself murmuring as their mouth finally parted and Angel clung to his neck, weak with desire and trying to catch her breath. Instead of laughing at him as Hoot expected once the words left his surprised lips, she nodded in understanding, some secret type of knowledge lighting her blue eyes.  
"I'm going." Eric inserted tersely. "I have a meeting with the museum director."  
Not taking her eyes form the strange man she'd just made out with, Angel waved a hand in acknowledgement and missed Eric's temperamental departure.**_

_**"Uh...Angel? Found the missing man, did you?" Linda's voice queried, none of the amusement on her face in her tone as Angel spun around, bright red with embarrassed confusion.  
"Um...I, uh..." Turning back to the man, she fought blushing further and loftily ignored Linda's laughter as she asked:  
"Are you the Special Forces man that they call 'Hoot'?"  
A cocky grin spread slowly over Hoot's face and he nodded, crossing his arm over his chest as he waited to find out why the pair were looking for him. To his surprise, the auburn woman stiffened and folded her arms over her chest as well, thought her posture was angry instead of teasing and patient like his own.  
"Your commander set up this bloody lecture and if I have to spend my time giving it, you can at least show up!" She informed him in a low voice. "You have five minutes!"  
Spinning around, Angel headed back to the auditorium, missing Hoot's amusement and Linda's puzzled stare at her back.**_

_**He'd earned some surprised looks from his buddies when he'd come into the auditorium, but Hoot didn't notice or care as he watched Angel give her presentation. She'd been annoyed by the fact that he kept his sunglasses on, but soon forget about it as she spoke with unconscious warmth and love for Turkey, it's culture and it's history. As he watched her speak, something about her tugged at him, stirring deep within him as if waking from an old memory...A memory in the way she moved, the gesture of her hands as she spoke, how she smiled rarely but always genuinely and the way she kissed reminded him somehow of a moment of joy, but he couldn't remember what or when and it seemed to tear at him while avoiding his mind as he sought to pin it down.**_

_**Ending her lecture, Angel concentrated on putting papers in her briefcase as the soldiers rose and talked among themselves jokingly. A shadow fell over her papers and Angel looked up to find Hoot standing casually before her.  
"Have lunch with me." He stated with a hint of command in his voice as he pulled off his sunglasses finally. Inhaling sharply at the sight of the brown eyes he revealed, Angel staggered slightly as her heart seemed to leap within her, then began pounding in her ears as her knees nearly buckled and she fought lightheadedness. Reaching out in concern, Hoot caught her in his arms, his face inches from hers.  
"Are you alright?" He asked with a frown, brushing hair back from her face and tracing her jaw and lips. Shivering as the act mimicked the caress in her dream, Angel tightened the hand that clutched his bicep as the name escaped her lips.  
"Hector..."  
"How'd you know my first name?" Hoot murmured, brushing his lips against the skin of her cheek. Confused and disturbed by what was happening to her, Angel opened her mouth to explain, but was cut off as one of the other Delta Force men approached.  
"You, uh, comin', Hoot? My wife'll kill me if we're late for this picnic thing."  
"Mack's pretty scared of his woman, Hoot. We'd better go." Another solider mocked, leaning on the desk insolently.  
"A woman can change the fate of men...Even the gods fought over beautiful mortal women." Hoot said absently, allowing Angel to straighten as his friends looked over at him with bewildered expressions.  
"Wanna come?" He asked the red head, ignoring the others.  
Nodding shyly, Angel let him lead her outside.**_

_**In the large park on Fort Benning, children raced in the grass and playground of swings, a slide and merry-go-round as adults watched from under the pavilion, sipping beers or sodas. Following Hoot shyly into the pavilion, Angel hung back slightly as the men greeted him with loud enthusiasm, but also with obvious respect and admiration. Catching her hand before she could fall back completely, Hoot sensed her nerves and twirled a lock of her hair around his index finger.  
"Why don't you get yourself a drink? There's some in the coolers." He suggested, rubbing her shoulder slightly.  
"You want something?" She offered after spotting the plastic containers he referred to.  
"A beer would be nice, thanks."  
Nodding, she crossed the pavilion, avoiding the picnic tables filled with women, obviously familiar with one another and watching her curiously. Opening the first cooler, she reached and dipping her hand in the mixture of ice and freezing cold water, Angel pulled out a can of Dr. Pepper and then started looking in the others for a beer. They seemed to contain every variety available and Angel arched an eyebrow as she glanced over them.  
"Hoot drinks Budweiser and only in the bottle." A woman's voice stated pleasantly. "Someone always brings a six pack for him...Here."  
A bottle appeared before her and Angel glanced up with a thankful smile, only to shake her head in confusion as images began over lapping of Andromache with her long, dark curled hair and blue Trojan gown and the identical woman in jeans and a blue baby tee standing before her.  
"Oh, no..."  
Darkness began to overcome her sight and Angel staggered as the woman called for Hoot just before the red head fell to the concrete floor.**_

Watching with a pain numbed mind and overwhelmed with horror as Achilles tied Hector's body to this chariot, Angela couldn't believe what she was seeing. The blonde Greek whipped his two black horses into a gallop and bile and fury welled up in Angela's chest, choking her as he began to circle the city and desecrated the prince's body. Spinning around as the wind whipped at her hair and plain white gown, Angela moved to rush down to the gates, only to be stopped short by Paris as he had some guards nearby grab her.  
"Let me go! You can't let him do that! Stop Achilles!" She demanded, struggling against the hands that held her as tears blurred her vision, but she held her head up with angry pride.  
"You'll only get killed." Paris retorted, gesturing for the soldiers to take her into the palace.  
"I don't care! You mustn't"  
"Let her go, Paris. She knows the risk and embraces it." A pained woman's voice interrupted wearily. Andromache stepped forward with her son cradled in her arms and Paris glanced between her and his father, who was oblivious.  
"She belongs to Hector. Let her go to him, your majesty." Andromache pressed.  
Nodding through his grief, Priam waved to grant the auburn woman's freedom and she paused only to kiss the sleeping baby's head before running down the stairs to the city gates. One of the guards followed to allow the gates opened for her with a groaning creak and Angela stepped out onto outside the city as Achilles brought his chariot back around. The sun glistened off metal in the dirt and Angela ignored Achilles and the dust his horses kicked up as she went and knelt in the dirt, brushing a caressing finger over Hector's sword before picking it up. Achilles had brought his chariot up short in front of her, a hard expression on his face and Angela stared at him with a blank face, her blue eyes flashing with fury while avoiding looking at Hector's body.  
"Why are you here?" Achilles demanded, looking her over.  
"I want Prince Hector's body." Angela stated stiffly, her fingers curling around the handle of the sword.  
"The king sends a woman to beg for his son's carcass?" Achilles scoffed, glancing up at the royal patio with a sneer.  
"No, I come on my own behalf." Angela returned quietly, not rising from her knees.  
"You are his woman"  
"Every bit of me belongs to Hector." Angel answered somewhat evasively. Her proud carriage and lack of fear reminded the warrior of Briseis, who was Hector's cousin and the woman he loved and he sought to justify his behavior as he knew he would have to with the woman back in his camp.  
"He killed my cousin, Patroclus. He was only a boy!"  
"Who wore YOUR armor! If your own men followed that 'boy' into battle thinking 'twas you, why do you assume Hector, who saw you once, would know a helmeted Patroclus wasn't Achilles!" Angela reasoned defensively as she stood, the Trojan blade in her hand.  
"Put that down." Achilles growled, his own hand going to his sword.  
"If you give me Hector. Otherwise, I cannot." She answered bravely. Jumping down from the chariot, Achilles moved swiftly and pressed his blade to her throat. Staring into her eyes, he expected fear of a real threat and found none in the serene, sea blue depths.  
"This is between me and the Prince. Stay out of it." He ordered, shoving her away roughly. Catching her balance, Angel stiffened angrily.  
"You KILLED him!" She said, choking slightly on the words. "It has been settled!"  
"Not to my satisfaction!" Achilles retorted, turning away again. It was then that Angela's eyes fell to the body near his feet and she gasped with heartbreak and horror to see half of Hector's handsome face bloodied to shreds from being drug over rocks and dirt.  
"You filthy ogre!"  
Lifting the heavy blade and charging him, Angela barely saw him move, but she felt the sword plunge into her stomach and dropped her weapon to the sand as her hands went to the blade within her. Removing it immediately, Achilles caught her as she fell, watching the crimson stain flood her white gown and the blood that began to drip from her mouth. Smiling slightly at him as if in thanks, Angela began to choke on the blood, struggling to breathe fro a moment before she died.


End file.
